"I came in on chance. I felt that you were seeking an explanation with your father."
"Yes, I had to."
"About your ideas, I suppose?"
"Yes, I must."
"Your father is ill.... It's his heart.... A fit of anger might prove fatal ... especially after last night. Not a word, Philippe."
At that moment, Morestal closed the window. He passed in front of them and then, turning and placing his hand on his son's shoulder, he murmured, in accents of restrained ardour:
"Do you hear the enemy's bugle, over there? Ah, Philippe, I don't want it to become a war-song!... But, all the same, if it should ... if it should!..."
***
At one o'clock on the afternoon of Tuesday the 2nd of September, Philippe, sitting opposite his father, before the pensive eyes of Marthe, before the anxious eyes of Suzanne, Philippe, after relating most minutely his conversation with the dying soldier, declared that he had heard at a distance the cries of protest uttered by Jorancé, the special commissary.
Having made the declaration, he signed it.